


Dream A Little Dream

by Willowe (orphan_account)



Series: Other Potential Futures [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brief thought of suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Willowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel's dead. Or was dead. Will be dead. He's not sure about the specifics, or how fast he's wasting away, but he'll gladly keep using up his Grace if it means making sure Sam Winchester smiles.</p>
<p>Side-story to "The Dead Still Speak". Gabriel's POV for the first part of that story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream A Little Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before "The Dead Still Speak" and it's not necessary to have read that to understand this (though I'd highly recommend it!). It doesn't match up with the story 100% but it does provide an alternative view of the events with Sam and Gabriel, including Gabriel's motivations for why he does what he does.

When Gabriel opens his eyes he doesn’t know what’s going on. And that’s something he hasn’t had an opportunity to say for several millennia.

The last thing he can remember clearly is when he was facing his brother. He feels like his heart is about to break at the memory of wielding his sword against him, of Lucifer turning his trick against him, the blade stabbing through his chest, the feeling of his Grace fleeing his Vessel.

And then nothing.

He wants to hate Lucifer for what he did, but he doesn’t even know what happened to his brother, whether he was killed or if the Winchesters followed his advice and trapped him back in the Pit. And Gabriel finds that he can’t bring himself to feel anything for his brother at all.

He doesn’t want to think about that, not now, not ever, so he focuses on his surroundings instead. Or rather, he would if there was anything to focus on at all. He’s in a vast wasteland of nothingness, not even a single wisp of poetically swirling mist.

“Okay, some sort of unformed dreamscape then,” he muses aloud so that he can hear _something_ , rather than out of any real need to. “Mine, probably.”

And yes, if he focuses he can sense his physical form, though he’s surprised to feel how weak it was. His Grace is holding on by a thread, barely enough to sustain him.

“No wonder I’m in the Twilight Zone of dreamscapes,” he mutters. “What the hell brought me back?” He knows that if it was his Father he would have been fully restored, but at the same time the familiar itch of pagan magic is missing. “Not one of my old friends then.”

The only logical answer is that it was one of his brothers, but the only ones strong enough to restore him were his fellow archangels and he knows that none of them would have. Castiel is the only family member he can think of that would care enough to bring him back, but his little brother was barely still an angel when they last met. There was no way he had enough mojo to pull something like this off.

And _that_ is another train of thought that he just wants absolutely nothing to do with so to distract himself he decides to see if he can change his dreamscape. He knows he can force it to become anywhere he wants to. He could snap up a luxury hotel room, filled with expensive liqueurs and scantily clad women, but deep down he knows that’s not really what he wants. Not anymore.

So instead he closes his eyes and stops focusing, lets his emotions dictate what happens next. And slowly, he feels his surroundings change, feels warm sunlight against his skin and grass brushing his waist and a breeze in his hair. When he finally opens his eyes he’s surprised to find himself in a field of golden grass that seemed to stretch endlessly in any direction.

Gabriel lets out a small sigh, a contented smile crossing his face for the first time in what felt like eons, and probably was. He sinks down to the ground and stretches out, the tall grass bending and hiding him from view. “Not that anyone’s around to see me,” he murmurs, allowing his eyes to slip closed.

No sooner had he done so than Gabriel feels his dreamscape shift around him. He cracks one eye open, frowning. Somehow, someone else was here. He thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs and closes his eyes again; this is _his_ world, and even with his limited powers he can take care of himself here.

Gabriel just wants to let himself drift, to forget things and not worry for a bit, but the newcomer is thinking _so damn loud_. Not even specific thoughts, which could admittedly be fun to listen to, but just overwhelming fear and panic and-

“Will you stop angsting so loud over there? Some of us are trying to catch some shut-eye,” Gabriel calls.

There’s a harsh intake of breath and the fear and confusion radiating off the stranger increases. Gabriel rolls his eyes and sits up, fully intending to have a nice (and hopefully short) conversation about how rude it was to project emotions so much when he stops, staring in shock.

Sam Winchester is standing not three feet from him, still as much of a giant as he ever was and Gabriel practically has to lean backwards just to look up into his face. He cracks a grin, even as his mind is racing to figure out what the hell is going on, and says, “What, no warm welcome back for the Trickster who saved your ass?”

“You’re dead.”

“Was dead. Seems someone liked me enough to bring me back.”

Sam shakes his head, the panic practically rolling off of him in waves. “No. No, this isn’t real,” he says, stumbling away from the angel and digging his thumb into an old scar on his palm.

Gabriel still has no idea what the hell is going on, but Sam is honestly starting to scare him. “Whoa there, Sammy, calm down,” he says, standing quickly. “I swear this isn’t another trick, I really am alive again.”

Sam is still shaking his head. “I know what’s going on, and this isn’t real.”

But there’s something in the hunter’s voice that makes Gabriel pause, because he knows that Sam is really trying to convince himself of that now in a way that suggests he’s not sure if it’s even true. “Okay, let’s pretend for a minute that I don’t know what’s going on, and I’d like to point out that I really don’t, so how about you explain things to me?”

Sam eyes him warily, but says, “It’s all in my mind again. Like Lucifer.”

The name hits Gabriel like a fist to the gut but he brushes it aside, files it away with everything else he has to deal with later. “What about my brother?”

Gabriel listens as Sam explains everything that happened since his death. How they followed his plan to trap Lucifer. Sam’s sacrifice. His return from the Pit without his soul, the year without Dean, their reunion. The return of his soul, the wall in his mind- and then Sam stops.

“So let me guess, the wall breaks down and you can’t tell whether you’re in the Pit or back on Earth, am I right?” Sam nods, so Gabriel continues. “Who the hell brought you back in pieces? And why hasn’t my little brother fixed you up yet then?”

All it takes is one look from Sam for Gabriel’s mind to start shutting down, to go numb, for his Grace to run cold. And he doesn’t need Sam to say anything for him to know what happened, but he still finds himself asking, “Where’s Castiel?”

“He’s dead,” Sam whispers, and it’s only the broken sound in the human’s voice that keeps Gabriel from just taking his revenge for his brother then and there. “We tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to us.”

“Listen to you about what?” Gabriel snaps.

“It was Castiel who brought me back, but he said he didn’t mean to leave my soul behind. After we trapped Lucifer and Michael in the pit, a civil war broke out in Heaven,” Sam says. “Cas wasn’t strong enough to take on Raphael by himself, so Crowley approached him with an offer. They would work together to open Purgatory, and in exchange for half the souls to help him hold onto his position as King of Hell, Castiel could take what he needed to fight Raphael.”

Gabriel rubs his face, feeling exhausted in ways he hadn’t felt in years. “The chucklehead didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Not a word,” Sam says. “We eventually figured it out ourselves, but by then he was too invested in it to stop. But I guess he had a falling-out with Crowley, because he tricked him and opened Purgatory himself and consumed all the souls.”

“But that would make him a…”

“A god, yeah,” Sam says. “And believe me, he exacted plenty of divine judgment. Killed Raphael outright and didn’t stop there. But the souls weren’t the only thing he took in when he opened Purgatory, and everything else started to eat away at him. So he tried to give it all up, but they stayed behind. Took over his Vessel, said he was dead, and we’ve been hunting them ever since.”

Gabriel feels like he’s going to be sick. Castiel was his only brother that he could still tolerate, that still held some promise, and he doesn’t want to know anything else about what happened. He wants to go back to being numb, to not thinking and not existing because at least that was easier than dealing with knowledge like _this_.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. For what it’s worth, we wish we could have stopped him,” Sam says quietly.

“What does it matter?” Gabriel asks bitterly. “You don’t even think I’m actually alive.”

Sam shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe this is real and everything is just a hallucination.”

“Hallucinating that you’re stuck here with me? Kiddo, this seems to be your lucky day.” Gabriel forces the joke out, using it as a crutch as he tries desperately to distract himself from his previous train of thought.

Sam cracks the slightest grin. “Yeah, right. After all the shit you’ve put us through? More like a nightmare.”

“Oh no, this is _my_ dreamscape and stuck with you for eternity? Pretty far from a nightmare.” He smirks at Sam, looking up and down the hunter’s body.

It’s a harmless action and he honestly doesn’t mean anything by it, which is why he’s so surprised when Sam blushes.

And disappears.

Gabriel stares at the empty spot where the younger Winchester had just been standing. Sam must have been sleeping in order to have entered this place at all, so Gabriel knows he probably just woke up… But that still doesn’t stop a small bit of panic from flaring up at the thought of something having happened to the hunter, or explain Sam’s embarrassment right before he disappeared.

And he doesn’t want to think about _that_ either, but he can’t change his dreamscape without using up the Grace that’s trying to keep him alive so there isn’t exactly much to do besides think.  

Sam’s story had hit him far harder than the hunter had realized, and Gabriel is struck with the reality that he had lost everything that he had loved. Lucifer killed him and now he’s locked in the Pit with Michael for eternity. Castiel is dead, the only brother who meant anything to him, and he took the last Archangel out with him. And Sam and Dean were broken to pieces because of _his_ stupid plan.

He sinks to the ground, burying his head in his hands. He wanted the Apocalypse to be over so he could move past the pain of what would happen to his family, but he never expected dealing with the aftermath to be like this. He finds the thread of Grace that connects him to his unconscious Vessel and, for a moment, contemplates how easy it would be to simply break it, to end everything.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, testing the strength of his Grace-connection but never actually severing it, when he feels a familiar of the world around him.

“Still hallucinating me then?” Gabriel says lightly, forcing his negative thoughts to the back of his mind.

“Looks like it,” Sam mutters.

“Gee, don’t sound so happy about it,” Gabriel says, finally turning his attention away from his Grace-connection to look at the human. “There must be something here that keeps you coming back.”

“Yeah. My mind just enjoys fucking with me,” Sam says and Gabriel is surprised by the amount of bitterness and pain in his voice. “And showing me people I’ve gotten killed is the least I deserve.”

“Whoa, hold on there bucko,” Gabriel says. “You two idiots didn’t get me killed, got that? I got myself killed, and Luci did the deed. Not you.”

Sam shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, but Gabriel can still see the confusion in his eyes; the kid probably isn’t used to his dreams going like this. With a sigh the archangel snaps his fingers and a candy bar appears, which he tosses to the human.

Sam catches the treat instinctively, eyeing it somewhat warily. “What’s this?”

“Candy, you chucklehead. Thought you’d at least know that,” Gabriel says, trying to subtly shift his Grace that had been pulled out of place when he used it.

“Why?”

“Because you looked like someone kicked a puppy and I’m feeling nice today,” Gabriel tells him. “But for future reference, stop with the teenage angsting before you invade my place.”

Sam looks around and raises an eyebrow. “Your place is a field. Doesn’t really seem like your style.”

It’s Gabriel’s turn to shrug. He’s not sure how to explain that he’s not ready to slip back into his extravagant lifestyle yet, and he doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t have the power to do so anyway. “It’s as good of a place as any to die,” he finally says.

“But you’re already dead.”

“So you keep telling me,” Gabriel says. “Now sit down and eat your damn candy bar. I’m pulling a muscle in my neck just looking up at you, Gigantor.”

Sam hesitates for another moment, before slowly sitting down next to the archangel and unwrapping the candy. He took a small bite of it, letting out a low moan of appreciation. “This is good!”

Gabriel laughs, partially out of true amusement and partially to push away the thoughts that that moan had brought up. “Of course it is! I only conjure up the best, after all. None of that cheapo mass-produced crap.”

He watches Sam eat the last of the candy, takes in the way he rolls each bite around his mouth, savoring the taste, the way licks his fingers clean from the melted sugar when he’s done. And he tries to tell himself that the heat pooling in his belly doesn’t mean anything, and that he really doesn’t want to see else those fingers and that mouth can do.

“So what exactly is there to do around here?” Sam asks when he’s done eating.

Gabriel can’t help but smirking, raising an eyebrow and glancing pointedly down at his own body.

Sam rolls his eyes and says, “Not gonna happen.”

Gabriel _really_ doesn’t want to admit how disappointed he is to hear that, so instead he raises his fingers, poised to snap, ignoring the fact that doing so would only further drain his already-limited Grace, ignoring his _need_ to make the hunter happy. “Then what do you want, Sammy?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t really care. Just something to do that doesn’t involve just desserts or either of us ending up naked.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes and makes a mental note to get the kid to trust him at some point. He thinks for a moment, then snaps his fingers, a deck of cards appearing in his hand. “How about we play a couple of hands?”

And damn the kid knows him too well because he immediately asks, “What’s the catch?”

“Winner gets free rein to do what they want,” Gabriel says with a smirk, though he’s not sure what the point of having a stipulation like that is because anything he _might_ want to do to- with?- Sam wouldn’t happen without the hunter’s consent and damnit, it’s getting harder to push thoughts like that to the back of his mind. He can see that Sam’s still not convinced, on the verge of saying no, so he quickly adds, “Come on, it’ll be fun! And I’ll promise not to cheat."

“Fine,” Sam says as he crumples up the candy wrapper and shoves it in his pocket. “You deal.”

Gabriel grins, dividing the deck quickly between the two of them so they each have half the cards. “It’s harder to cheat at War,” he says when Sam raises a questioning eyebrow and damn, there should be a good metaphor or lessen in that except it’s not, strictly speaking, true.

Gabriel can, theoretically, cheat at War. He can subtly change the cards that Sammy has so they’re all lower than his, so he can win and do… something. It’s that uncertainty that stops him. He doesn’t know where he’s going with this, running on instinct and feelings that he’s still trying to push to the side, and part of him doesn’t want to win because he doesn’t know what he’ll try to do if he does.

Almost surprisingly, he loses anyway. Sam plays the game with a sort of carelessness that belies an undercurrent of tension, a need to win, and Gabriel can’t help but be intrigued at it. He wonders what the hunter will ask for. He’s still so broken from the Apocalypse, from his time in Hell, that it’s almost impossible for Gabriel to guess what he wants most.

“So Sammy, what does your little heart desire?” Gabriel says with a flippancy that he’s not entirely sure he feels. “Food? Women?”

“It’s Sam, and no,” the human mutters. Gabriel is surprised to see that the Winchester is blushing, actually _blushing_ damnit, and he’s pretty sure that if jumped Sam now he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions.

“Then what?” Gabriel forces himself to keep his tone light, to push his thoughts away because now is definitely _not_ the time to be dealing with them.

“It’s stupid but… I was wondering if I could see your wings.” Sam doesn’t meet his eyes as he speaks, which Gabriel realizes is a good thing because it means he can’t see the effect his words have on him. “I mean, even after two years of dealing with angels on a pretty regular basis I’ve never seen any wings. Can you even show them, or is it like seeing your True Form and my eyes will burn out?”

“No, I can manifest them on this plane. It’ll just take a lot of juice though, which is why most angels don’t bother.” Actually, Gabriel isn’t even sure if he has enough Grace to do this right now, but he’s pretty confident that manifesting one of his many sets won’t kill him. “I’d suggest you’d step back though, just to be safe,” he says dryly.

Sam hurries to comply and Gabriel shrugs out of his shirt and jacket, stretching and arching his back, feeling his wings flex and shift in their other dimension. He indulges in a moment of vanity, closes his eyes, and focuses on his strongest, best groomed pair, using his Grace to shape them into a physical form in his dreamscape.

A startled gasp from Sam tells him that he’s successful and he opens his eyes, glancing at his wings. They’re huge, and he’d guess that his wingspan is about sixteen feet, give or take. They’re a polished bronze color, lightening towards the tips that are resting on the ground.

Sam’s staring at him with a look of awe on his face and Gabriel can’t help but preen, shaking his feathers out and extending his wings to their full length. “Like something you see?” he asks with a certain amount of smugness.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he says, though he’s still smiling and there’s no real anger in his voice. He takes a small step forward and raises his hand. “Can I… Can I touch them?”

Gabriel should say no, tuck his wings away, and find something else to pass the time, but he’s never been good at resisting temptation. “Of- of course,” he says, his voice trembling at just the thought of those giant hands combing through his feathers.

If Sam notices he doesn’t say anything and Gabriel turns around to give the human clear access to his wings. Sam moves forward slowly, hesitating for a moment before gently running his hand along the top of the ring wing. Gabriel shudders at the touch and Sam quickly pulls his hand away. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Gabriel wants to whine at the loss of contact. He’s practically half-hard already just from the single touch and the thought of what Sam’s going to do and even though he knows that this is a monumentally bad idea he finds himself saying, “No, go on. It’s just been awhile since anyone’s done this.”

Sam complies, stroking down the feathers on the right wing, fingers digging deep and dragging along the muscles underneath. “They’re so soft,” he says quietly, his voice full of wonder.

Gabriel doesn’t say anything, doesn’t trust himself to say anything. Sam’s hands in his feathers light a fire in his veins, heat pooling low in his gut as the human someone manages to hit every pleasure center on his wings. He shifts slightly, trying to relieve the pressure against the front of his jeans and ends up biting back a moan at the friction he causes instead. His wings unconsciously draw back, pressing tight against his spine.

“Gabriel?”

Gabriel closes his eyes, drawing a shaky breath and trying to force his wings to relax but with Sam right there, breathing down his neck, hands still tangled in his feather’s, it’s impossible. It’s a damn good thing Sam doesn’t know how to read his wings because right now they’re _screaming_ submissiveness, a need for approval from a mate and good, hard fuck, and damnit if that thought alone doesn’t make Gabriel impossibly harder because he’s _never_ reacted like this for anyone before.

Then Sam’s hands disappear and Gabriel does whimper at the loss. “Sammy?” he asks, his voice breaking with need, and glances over his shoulder. The hunter is nowhere in sight and Gabriel knows that he’s probably woken up again.

Gabriel’s fumbling with the zipper on his jeans before he even knows what he’s doing, forcing the material down just far enough to work a hand inside his boxers. He wraps trembling fingers around his cock, groaning and thrusting forward. Sam’s hands on his wings have already brought him almost to the brink and it doesn’t take more than a few quick strokes for him to be coming hard, head thrown back, wings twitching, and the hunter’s name on his lips.

Gabriel is breathing heavily and it takes several tries for him to snap his fingers to clean up the come from the inside of his boxers and tidy his clothes. He tucks his wings back in the pocket dimension and flops down on the ground, closing his eyes and wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into. He wishes he could blame this on something gone wrong during his resurrection but no, he’s always been drawn to the younger Winchester, ever since running into them on that stupid university campus all those years ago. If anything, his death probably just helped put things into perspective for him.

And damn, what a perspective they were. He wants Sam, desperately wants him, but he also knows that that’s never going to happen. He’s hurt the hunter too many times in the past and even if Sam doesn’t show any outward signs of hating him, Gabriel knows that there’s no way that the human could possibly feel the same way he does.

Again the archangel briefly toys with his Grace-connection, wondering just how much it would take to push it past the breaking point, not out of a desire to kill himself but rather because a plan is starting to come to Gabriel. He loves Sam Winchester, there’s no point in denying it. Sam, on the other hand, most likely harbors some resentment towards him. On top of that, the hunter is broken, scarred from the Apocalypse and its aftermath. Maybe, just maybe, Gabriel can help him heal a little bit, help him smile more and laugh more, and if they come out of this without Sam hating him anymore… Well, Gabriel is willing to call that a success.

He starts by shifting the world he’s in, darkening the sky until its pitch black and the stars can shine through clearly. He has no way of knowing what season it is in the outside world so he decides on a fall sky, the Pegasus constellation visible overhead. When that’s finished he creates a small bonfire, snaps up the supplies to make s’mores, and waits for Sam to return.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar shift-pull of his dreamscape that announces the return of the hunter. “Gabriel, what the-?”

“Shut up and sit down, Sasquatch,” Gabriel says, spearing a marshmallow on a skewer and holding it over the fire.

“Are you making s’mores?” Sam asks, amused, as he complies and sits down next to Gabriel by the fire. “Can’t you just snap some up for you instead of going through all the trouble of making them?”

“All the trouble? Sammy, a s’more isn’t a s’more unless you make it yourself,” Gabriel says teasingly.

“Alright, fine,” Sam says with a grin. “Pass me a marshmallow, with you?”

Gabriel smirks and lobs a marshmallow towards Sam. It bounces off his forehead, rolling to a halt just outside the boundary of the fire pit. The Archangel can’t help but snicker at the look of surprise on the human’s face and Sam rolls his eyes, picking up the marshmallow and brushing dirt off of it before skewering it.

“How old are you supposed to be again?” he asks as he begins roasting the marshmallow.

“Old enough to know that life’s more fun than you think it is,” Gabriel replies. In his eagerness to annoy- flirt with?- Sam, he didn’t notice that his marshmallow had caught on fire. He pulls it away and quickly blows the flame out, but can’t help whine in disappointment as it’s already scorched.

“Can’t you just snap it back to perfection?” Sam asks, slowing turning his own marshmallow over in the fire so it toasts evenly.

“It’s not the same,” Gabriel says, his voice still dangerously close to a whine. He knows it’s a bit pathetic, but damnit he was looking forward to that s’more and for someone used to just snapping up whatever they want, the thought of waiting for another marshmallow to toast seems torturous.

“Here,” Sam says, snagging Gabriel’s marshmallow and passing the angel his own perfectly toasted one.

Gabriel is actually speechless for a long moment. “Thanks Sammy,” he finally says softly.

Sam shrugs. “Dean never figured out how to roast them correctly, so I’m used to eating his burned ones anyway,” he says, looking vaguely uncomfortable and Gabriel wisely lets the conversation drop, focusing on building the perfect s’more.

 Sam finishes eating his first and sticks another marshmallow in the fire to roast. Gabriel prefers to take his time, eating his treat slowly. He can’t resist moaning lowly at the taste, enjoying the way Sam flushes, though whether from the sound or the heat from the fire he doesn’t know.

Gabriel keeps one eye on the second marshmallow he’s roasting (hey, who wants to ruin two in a row?) while he watches Sam make his own s’more.  The hunter uses less chocolate than Gabriel does, but he likes his marshmallow the same way as the Archangel- light golden-brown, toasted just enough to be slightly gooey in the middle. And the fact that he gave his first marshmallow to Gabriel anyway… Well, if he didn’t already love the human he’s sure he would for that.

Sam flops down on his back as he munches on his s’more, smiling and looking so relaxed that Gabriel would give just about anything for him to stay that way. He glances up at the night sky overhead and asks, “Do you know the constellations?”

Sam shakes his head. “I’ve read about them, but it’s hard to really try to find them when you spend most nights digging up graves,” he says between bites of his s’more.

“I could show them to you,” Gabriel offers as he pulls his marshmallow out of the fire and begins to put together his own s’more. “If you want.”

Sam smiles again and Gabriel honestly thinks that might be his favorite sight in the world. “Yeah,” Sam says. “I’d like that.”

Gabriel lies down on his back next to Sam and points out the specific stars overhead that make up the constellations, stopping only to make more s’mores, half of which he passes to Sam. He shows the hunter Pegasus and Perseus and Aquarius, tells him the easiest way to find the stars Sirrah and Mirfak and Algol, which is actually a triple-star system but looks like a single star from Earth. He uses his Grace to magnify the Andromeda galaxy, located within the constellation of the same name, and he explains how 51 Pegasi was the first star found that contained an extrasolar planet.

During all of this Sam stays next to him, asking questions around bites of s’mores, the smile never fading from his face. Gabriel can feel the human start to doze off but keeps talking anyway until the hunter actually does fall asleep. He watches Sam, smiling fondly at the light snoring and brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes; the kid needs a haircut and Gabriel is almost tempted to give him one himself.

Then Sam fades away and Gabriel bursts into action, needing to do something to stop himself from feeling so alone.

Every time Sam returns to the dreamscape Gabriel has something else planned for them. They sit in a protective bubble as a thunderstorm wages around them discussing Norse mythology, and Gabriel makes Sam laugh with some lesser-known tales from his early days as Loki. He conjures up a variety of his favorite treats and forces Sam to try all of them. He learns that the hunter doesn’t particularly care for chocolate, but loves sour candies and gummy treats.

He also learns, while all this is happening, that Dean doesn’t believe that Castiel is dead, that Sam thinks Dean had a thing for the angel and is just kicking himself over not doing anything. He learns that Bobby’s house burned down and how they almost lost the older hunter who’s become a surrogate father for them, and infers how much that would have hurt the brothers. He learns that Sam is trying to put on a brave face for everyone, but that he’s actually terrified to go on hunts because he’s never sure if he’ll start hallucinating in the middle of things again. He learns that part of Sam’s fear stems from the fact that he still think that the former Trickster is a figment of his imagination, and it pains Gabriel that he doesn’t know how to change that.

Gabriel also learns, though slightly more unwillingly, that he’s reaching the end of his reserve of Grace. He can feel it being drained every time he conjures another illusion, but the look of happiness on Sam’s face when he sees what’s waiting for him makes the Archangel loathe to stop what he’s doing.

Until finally one day he doesn’t have a choice because Gabriel _knows_ that the next time he snaps his fingers he’s going to overdo himself and that’ll be it.

So he waits nervously for Sam to appear, tries desperately to think of an excuse as to why he can’t just snap up whatever the hunter wants this time that doesn’t involve admitting that he’s used up so much Grace that he might as well be human.

Sam appears with the familiar shift of the dreamscape that Gabriel has come to look forward to more every time it happens. But the expression on the human’s face is not familiar to Gabriel and it causes the Archangel to pause as he tries to figure out what’s going on, because Sam is radiating shock and relief and confusion and someone’s gone and changed all the rules in this and Gabriel doesn’t like it.

“Sammy, what’s going on?” he asks cautiously.

“You’re alive,” is the quiet response.

If anything, Gabriel is more confused than before. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, kiddo. What changed your mind on the matter?”

“Crowley,” Sam says. “Him and… Aziraphale, I think?... found you on their doorstep weeks ago. They’ve been trying to take care of you, but you kept getting worse. Aziraphale finally forced Crowley to get help and he went to us. Well, to Bobby actually, who called us. Crowley said that since I’ve been coming here, I was the only one who could try to help you.”

“Help me how?”

“You’re dying, Gabriel,” Sam says, as if the angel wasn’t aware of that fact already.

Gabriel snorts. “Last time I was here you thought I was already dead, so forgive me if I don’t really see what difference that makes.”

“It makes all the difference in the world, Gabriel!” Sam says angrily. “All those things you did when I was here, that was using up your Grace, wasn’t it? Using it up for me, for some inexplicable reason, so yeah, it matters to me that you’re dying now! Why the hell would you do something so stupid like that?”

“You really don’t know?” Gabriel asks, shaking his head. “Sammy, I have nothing left. You’re my only connection to my past life. All I wanted was to try and make up for everything I’ve done to you, to get you to not hate me anymore.”

Sam smiles. “You mean _you_ really don’t know?” he says teasingly. “Gabriel, I haven’t hated you for a long time. In fact, this is pretty fucking far from me hating you.”

Gabriel inhales sharply and he almost doesn’t want to dare to hope, because if he’s right he _never_ expected things to go this way. He takes a small step forward, just starting to invade Sam’s personal space. “Then you should know that I may have had ulterior motives in what I was doing,” he says, his voice low.

Sam takes a step forward as well, only a few inches separating them now. “I figured that out.”

Gabriel smirks up at him. “Then shut up and kiss me, Winchester.”

Sam smiles but does just that, grabbing Gabriel by the front of his jacket and leaning down to kiss him deeply. The height difference makes things a bit awkward, with Gabriel standing on his tiptoes and balancing himself with a hand on Sam’s chest, but neither of them particularly cares. Sam is good at this and when he licks at Gabriel’s lips, silently begging entrance, the Archangel complies, sighing into the kiss as Sam’s tongue runs over his teeth, explores the inside of his mouth.

Sam breaks the kiss first, breathing heavily even as he moves to nibble at the side of Gabriel’s neck, his leg shifting between the angel’s and pressing against his growing erection. Gabriel moans softly and begins pulling at Sam’s jacket, struggling to get the clothes off his hunter _now, damnit_ , before giving up and raising his fingers to snap.

Sam sees the movement and grabs his hand, stopping him. “No using your powers, Gabriel. We’re doing this the human way.”

Gabriel huffs, rolling his eyes. “This won’t kill me, Sammy,” he says and it’s true. He can feel his Grace slowly starting to recharge again, being fueled by whatever he’s started with Sam.

Sam kisses his hand and rolls his hips against the angels, eliciting a moan at the friction between them. “I don’t care,” Sam whispers, pulling Gabriel’s jacket off his shoulders and letting it drop to the ground, moving on to slowly unbutton his shirt. “We’re doing this my way.”

Gabriel shudders at the words and grabs the front of Sam’s shirt harshly and pulls, sending both of them sprawling to the ground. Gabriel, impatient as ever, tears at Sam’s shirt, buttons flying everywhere. Sam chuckles, pulling Gabriel up just enough to get the angel’s shirt off and allowing Gabriel to tug his t-shirt over his head before forcing Gabriel back down, nipping at his neck again and working his way down. Gabriel gasps as Sam’s mouth latches onto a nipple and arcs up into the touch, needing more contact.

Sam continues to work his way slowly down Gabriel’s body, mouth working over every inch of skin, biting and licking and sucking until Gabriel is writhing beneath him. Sam slips a hand down and palms at Gabriel’s cock through his jeans and the angel groans, bucking into his hand. “Sam, please, do _something_.”

“I am doing something,” Sam says with a smirk, running his tongue over the bite mark he just left, but he knows what the angel means and he quickly undoes the zipper on the jeans and tugs at them. Gabriel lifts his hips, allowing Sam to pull them off completely. The hunter raises an eyebrow at the lack of underwear and Gabriel smirks, until a large hand is wrapped around his cock, driving all thoughts from his mind.

Sam strokes him slowly, thumb swiping over the slit and smearing precome over the head of Gabriel’s cock, the other hand against the angel’s hip, pinning him down and preventing him from thrusting into the hunter’s hand like he so desperately wants to. Gabriel throws his head, moaning lowly and desperate for more friction, more _anything_. “Sammy, come on, please.”

Sam chuckles again and Gabriel finally decides that enough is enough. He surges up, using his angelic strength to flip the human over so their positions are reversed. “Gabriel, what-” Sam begins, but then Gabriel is mouthing at his cock through the thick denim of his jeans and it’s the human’s turn to groan.

Gabriel all but rips the jeans off the hunter, forcing Sam’s boxers down as well until the human is completely exposed beneath him, his cock hard and already leaking precome. Gabriel grins up at him, the only warning he gives before the swallows Sam whole.

Sam jerks up, crying out at the sudden sensation as Gabriel sucks harshly, running his tongue along the vein, swirling it around the head. Sam tries to thrust up but Gabriel holds his hips down, swallowing around Sam’s cock and loving the delicious sounds the human makes. “Fuck, Gabriel, please,” Sam gasps. Gabriel chuckles, the vibrations travelling down Sam’s cock and making him shiver and moan.

Gabriel pulls off of Sam’s cock with a light pop. “Sorry Sammy, not yet,” he says, moving up to straddle the hunter’s chest. “You still intent on doing this sans Grace?”

Sam nods, and Gabriel smirks. “Looks like this is your lucky day then, kiddo,” he says, sucking two fingers into his mouth, tongue running over the digits and coating them with saliva before reaching around behind him. He runs the fingers teasingly up Sam’s cock before pressing lightly against his own hole. He groans as the first one slips inside and he braces himself against Sam’s chest with his other hand, his head falling forward.

Sam’s eyes darken at the sight. “God, Gabriel, fuck, do you even realize how hot you look right now?” He reaches up, wrapping his arms around the angel and running his hands along his back.

Gabriel jerks as the human’s hand stroke along where his wings would connect to his body and Gabriel can’t help but moan, arching his back as Sam digs his nails in, scratching lightly. “Fuck, Sam...”

“You think I didn’t notice how you reacted to my hands on your wings?” Sam asks, pressing deep along the edges of Gabriel’s shoulder blades. “How much you fucking wanted it?”

Gabriel rocks back on his finger and curls it, crying out as it hits that spot inside him. “Sammy…”

“Let them out, Gabriel,” Sam orders and Gabriel does, pulling them from the other dimension and Sam buries his fingers in them even as they press close to his back again. Gabriel moans, adds another finger and starts to stretch himself, even if Sam couldn’t really hurt him anyway. Sam tugs at his wings, hands buried deep in his feathers, sending bolts of pleasure through Gabriel and it’s too much, he needs this _now_ or it’s going to be over embarrassingly early.

Gabriel shifts back, Sam’s cock sliding along the cleft of his ass and he positions it at his entrance, lifting up and slowly sinking down onto it. Sam’s head is thrown back and he’s groaning, and Gabriel bites his lip as the hunter slowly fills him until he bottoms out and Gabriel pauses because _fuck_ , he never thought it would feel this good.

But Sam thrusts up into him and Gabriel moans, taking the hint and rocks back, lifting his hips and slamming them back down in a brutal rhythm that’s almost too fast but damnit, he’s wanted this for so long and he’s tired of waiting for it. Sam’s cock is hitting his prostate on every thrust and with the way the hunter is groaning, hands clenched tight in Gabriel’s wings, the angel knows that he’s not going to last long.

Then one of Sam’s hands finds his cock and Gabriel moans as he starts stroking it in time to their thrusts, or at least as much as possible because they’re starting to falter, the rhythm lost and their movements more desperate and needy. “Fuck, Sam, please, so good, please Sammy…” Gabriel is slowly coming undone, not even sure of what he’s saying anymore because he’s _so close_ it almost hurts, and all he knows is that Sam is everywhere, in him and in his wings and on his cock, bringing him right to the edge.

Gabriel comes first, crying out as his orgasm rips through him, come streaking Sam’s chest and wings fluttering helplessly as he continues to ride the human. Sam doesn’t last long after that, thrusting up into Gabriel and coming deep inside him.

Gabriel collapses against the human, both of them breathing heavily, and he draws his wings up to provide a little cocoon of protection around them. He snaps, cleaning both of them off and redressing them, and Sam inhales sharply at the action. “Relax Sammy,” he murmurs, nuzzling against Sam’s chest and closing his eyes. “My Grace has been fully restored. Think of it as you having a magical healing cock that just saved my life.”

Sam laughs. “You’re ridiculous,” he says fondly.

“But you love me,” Gabriel says.

Sam smiles gently at him and kisses the top of his head. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I do.”

Gabriel smiles contentedly and wraps his wings tighter around the human. He still doesn’t know why he was brought back or what will happen next, still lost the brothers he was closest to and is cut off from the rest, but now, curled around Sam, he can’t quite bring himself to care as much as he did before.

He has everything he needs right here.


End file.
